“Writing Rivers” by  Richard Craig Anderson  

Hi everyone.  My name is Rick Anderson and Michael Thompkins invited me to discuss my latest novel, Rivers of Belief.  Like Michael’s Gun Play, it’s a crime fiction thriller with an emphasis on edgy characterization—characters fleshed-out until we see their souls, their dreams and even their nightmares—traits that humanize us all.  It’s not a new concept of course, but there is a twist and that’s what I want to talk about.

I met Dr. Michael Thompkins during the 2009 Southern California Writers Conference in San Diego.  We’d been invited as lecturers, our paths quickly crossed, and we formed the basis of a growing friendship.  As I read Gun Play, it became evident that he and I had parallel spirits—we’re both determined to write with authenticity, and we believe that crime fiction must explore more fully the idiosyncrasies that we experience as human beings.  Gone are the formula, two-dimensional caricatures; welcome instead irregular characters made strong by the very weaknesses they fight to overcome—and by the dreams they dare to live.

Michael Brennan is the protagonist of Rivers of Belief.  He’s a compassionate ladies man, he wears a badge and gun, and naturally he’s out to stop the bad guys.  But he has another mission: Michael was a street kid, and he knows that a successful cop must make society’s invisible people, visible.  Our friend Michael Thompkins does this so well in Gun Play, and he and I agree that white or black, male or female, gay or straight or Jewish or Zoroastrian—it’s the invisible people among us who often deliver vital clues in real-life mysteries—and mystery is a key ingredient in crime fiction.  My hero Joe Wambaugh has show-cased the unobserved since The New Centurions, and anyone who loves Stephen King realizes that his stories matter to us because we fall in love with his characters—especially those who’ve been disenfranchised by societal norms or misperceptions.  So when Michael Thompkins asked me to discuss the edgy characters in my book, I immediately agreed.

In writing Rivers, I wanted characters that pushed the proverbial envelope.  I wanted men and women greater than they appeared at surface level, simply because they were determined to live life on their own terms; and how best to accomplish this than by drawing from real-life experiences.  I’ve been involved in public safety since 1971, first as a fire fighter in suburban Baltimore, and then a long career in law enforcement.  I was a street cop and later a Federal agent, often working and traveling throughout the world.  But no matter the venue, one common denominator never escaped my attention: the unseen people among us, and they cry out to be seen.  They are the shoe-shine guys at market stalls in Bangkok; the waitress striving to provide her kids with more than she had; the auto mechanic who adds the extra touch without charging the added labor.  They are all of us, and they need to be heard.

The hitch was, how best for them to be heard?  The problem resolved itself when I gave voice to one of the main characters.  Early on in Rivers of Belief, Officer Levi Hart asks the rhetorical question, "Did you know that no matter where you are in London, you're never more than thirty feet from a rat?" Then as a serial rapist moves at will through a crowded resort town, Rivers of Belief reveals elements of depravity and decadence, filtered between moderating themes of sexuality, sensuality and spirituality.

And then things get truly edgy.

The language can be gruff and stark—welcome to the world of cops and crooks.  And there’s some violence.  More than the scene in “Old Yeller” where the wild boars gore Travis’ leg; not nearly as much as depicted in “The Untouchables.”  There’s also sex in Rivers of Belief, a lot of it—a point made clear to me in some fan letters.  I don’t disagree.  There is a lot; there’s also a lot in Sex in the City, and in Law & Order.  The question then becomes, at what point does quantity matter?  More importantly, is it gratuitous sex or is it truly relevant to the plot, and consequently to characterization?

I drew upon real-life observations and experiences when writing the story.  The setting is a popular resort town and yes—what goes on in Vegas stays in Vegas.  That’s the truth of this town.  But filter out promiscuity and vulgarity, and sex has a healthy context, and the sexual behavior in Rivers is based upon mutual respect and friendship.  Regardless, the amount of sex in the story is a fraction of what occurs in that town—and here I embraced that rule of writing that states: just because it’s real doesn’t mean it has to be written into the story.  Quite true.  But the flip-side of that semi-permeable rule states: on the other hand, if it’s real and it matters to the story, then put it in.

The main characters are two cops and a brilliant waitress, and they live unconventional lives.  The plot revolves around a hunt for a serial rapist, but a sub-plot is centered upon sexuality, so I decided to use a degree of the non-traditional to highlight the subplot.  I took a risk and wrote Rivers as I saw it, and here’s the triumph: those very same fan letters concede that the sex worked; that it helped drive the plot and was relevant—and most agreed that it was handled in good taste.

Michael Thompkins wrote edgy characters in Gun Play.  There are gay characters with positive traits, just as there are straight people with positive qualities; there are strong female detectives, and people of color who are standouts in their profession.  The characterizations reflect real life, and they’re necessary in furthering his story.

Characters and settings drive plots, true.  But how colorful should a character be?  A Confederacy of Dunces demands a protagonist from the lunatic fringe; crime fiction does not and possibly should not have an Ignatius J. Reilly at its helm.  But characters that loom large in life can drive police procedural plots not from behind the wheel of a Volvo, but from a Lamborghini or a Shelby Mustang.  These characters can then weave their collective way through settings that the reader can see and smell and touch.  But, the author runs the risk that some readers may turn away from a non-formula approach.  So why take the risk?  The explanation is simple: to aspire toward real creativity in crime fiction, and if that means developing colorful characters with a dash of spice and a touch of sex, then the answer becomes an undeniable, “why the heck not?”  After all, life is far more interesting from behind the wheel of a Lamborghini.

Yeah, there’s sex in Rivers of Belief.  It’s the healthy variety, the kind that promotes bonds of intimacy between sexual partners; bonds that increase their love and understand of one another, and from which they grow.  There are also dabs of the unhealthy variety, to contrast the onslaught of pornographic and victimizing sex that the media bombard us with.  My protagonist Michael Brennan was abused as a child; he could have grown into an adult who abused others in response.  He didn’t.  He made a conscious decision to practice a sexuality that embraces spirituality, as well as fun and naughtiness and let’s face it—even a good roll in the hay sometimes.  Natasha Panova and Levi Hart also portray these attributes, each in their own way.  Natasha is poised yet unpretentious; Levi is charismatic and full of beans.  But at the essence there is this: these characters are giving of themselves and especially unselfish toward the people they love, and that, my friends, was relevant to the plot.

I also infused the characters with a spontaneity that comes from living life as Teddy Roosevelt suggested—by “daring mighty deeds, even though checkered by defeat.”  Because of their openness, the three characters draw assistance from the invisible people strewn throughout the plot.  Those cast-offs, jaded by abuse or indifference or sick sex, readily appreciate the genuine qualities of the three friends.  They regard the friends as touchable humans who don’t deny that they feel thirst, hunger, pain, joy and yes, sexual yearnings.  As such, the clues come forth, and after several twists and turns a possible suspect is identified.  As a consequence, the story reflects life through the magic of creativity—with a nod toward realities that surround us all.

In writing Rivers I kept the good guys humble, even as they acknowledge their strengths.  Levi is the natural man, so much so that he projects a strong flaw that he must ultimately grow out of; he must also rid himself of a secret.  Natasha refuses to accept the notion that limitations should be placed upon her, and she’s as brilliant as she is beautiful; so why is she waiting tables at a night club?  Michael Brennan is courageous but he’s mentally mired in the muck of an estuary.  What demons is he so fearful of—and will he ever divest himself of them?  Perhaps each will grow—with help from their small society of friends.  And that is the point of Rivers of Belief—the raison d’étre if you will—we’re all in this together, and the hunt for a sadistic predator can sometimes pull good people closer still.  As Michael Thompkins showed us in Gun Play, it’s time for creative crime fiction to reveal more than simple forensics as the path toward solving mysteries.  It’s time to recognize problem-solving by contributions of those who live life on the fringe—and thus draw them forward in a combined effort toward a mutual success.  In Gun Play, the homeless guitar player is the catalyst behind the pursuit of the assassin; in Rivers, a lonely woman provides the missing link to the brutal rapist’s identity, but only after Michael reveals for her levels of interpersonal intimacy that she could never have imagined.

In both stories the selfless interaction among larger-than-life people brings new purpose and urgency toward resolving conflicts and overcoming crises—and it’s time for this to become an element of genuinely creative crime fiction.  Gun Play celebrates the inter-play of its main characters; Rivers of Belief observes a spirituality revealed through the message of two rivers at the confluence of a small island.  Both stories celebrate loyalties; both ring the clarion call for the recognition of greater realities.

Rivers of Belief is available from Amazon and stores everywhere.  See the website at www.georgetownpress.com to view sample chapters or obtain autographed copies.